


Not So Mousy Molly

by Masqueradewitch



Category: Sherlock (TV), St Trinian's (2007 2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masqueradewitch/pseuds/Masqueradewitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper wasn't always like she is around Sherlock.  After all, he may be able to deduce everything about her work and social life, but he never did find out where she went to school!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Mousy Molly

**Author's Note:**

> All recognizable characters belong to their respective creators. I am merely borrowing them, and promise to return them in mint condition

Sherlock Holmes burst through the doors to the morgue of St. Bart’s as he usually did and came to a sudden halt, his mind racing to classify the sight he was presented with. 

Molly Hooper, the shy mousy pathologist that could barely look at him without blushing madly and tripping over her words, was shoving bottles of chemicals into a large bag. Her long hair was now streaked with blood red and black, dark eyeliner rimmed her eyes and blood red coated her lips, a spiked dog collar hugged her throat, and a leather corset hugged her upper body while an artfully torn mini schoolgirl skirt hugged her hips and barely covered enough to count as a skirt. Black fishnets covered well formed legs and solid black platform boots with many straps graced her feet. A wireless headset was attached to one ear and she was talking to someone over it, seemingly oblivious to the consulting detective.

“Yes Annabelle, Kells called me last night. I’m all kitted out, just picking up a few things from work. No, I’ve told the twins before, no amount of Trinsky will dissolve human flesh, much less bone and organ. Oh don’t worry love, this sanctimonius bastard will regret ever trying anything with one of us. Am I the last one to call back? Good, I’m just now leaving, shouldn’t take me more than an hour or so to get there. Annabelle, it’s me we’re talking about. With the modifications the firsties did for my graduation gift, it’ll be child’s play. See you then,” Molly tapped the headset and turned for the door, only to freeze slightly at the sight of Sherlock and John staring at her.

“M-Molly?” John stammered, wide eyed at the pathologist.

“I don’t have time tonight Sherlock, you’re going to be on you own for a bit. That bastard made his final mistake. I can handle the fact he lied about himself when we went out, I’m actually a bit used to such things, but this is unforgivable,” she snapped even as she made to head through the door. Sherlock grabbed her upper arm, only to find himself pressed against the wall with a very sharp dagger pressed against his throat.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded, eyes wide as he tried to figure out how he had missed this side of the timid doctor.

“Oh use that brain of yours Sherlock. You can tell exactly how long it’s been since I’ve gotten off but this escapes you? Jim,” she spat out the name, “went after one of us. Nobody takes on a Trinian without consequences,” her smile was predatory as she moved back from where she had shoved Sherlock to the wall and the dagger vanished down her corset before she spun on her heel and marched down the hall, leaving the two men to stare after her.

“Well, it looks like your cat and mouse games with Moriarty are over now Sherlock,” John said. Sherlock pointed a look at his friend, silently demanding an explanation. “If he went after someone from St. Trinian’s, he’ll be lucky to survive the week. Surely you’ve heard of them?” John asked. Sherlock frowned and looked at his flatmate.

“I highly doubt a school can do anything to Moriarty,” he scoffed. John chuckled in reply.

“Tell you what, ask Lestrade about the last poor bastard that went after St. Trinian’s. Bet you five pounds he goes white as a sheet the second he hears the school’s name,” the doctor headed out of the morgue, but paused at the end of the hall. “I’ll bet if you ask nicely, Molly would wear the outfit again for you,” he called, a swift glance downward. Sherlock remained leaning against the wall for a moment as his mind tried to sort through everything that had happened in the last few moments. Finally, a slow smile spread across his face as he headed out of the morgue.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I have placed here, and I admit I am a little nervous. I admit I'm not the best, but if you could let me know if I'm wasting my time?


End file.
